Fits like someone elses Jeans...

I don't know where this fits? This 'holiday'? Mother's Day. What do you do with it? Am I the only one who still struggles to find their fit in the category of "Mothers"?

To whine about being a single mother of a small child and how it just ends up being another day to thank other mom's- seems petty. And it is. Petty.  I'm sure it is a beautiful lovely day when you can experience it with zero expectations. Apparently/Unfortunately I left that wonderful gift at the cleaners for a day or two. Us, being where we are at- the more I try to love on him- well- today was a day to push me away.  So we went to the pool and exhausted both of us. So that by shortly after 5pm....  I'm pretty sure that was last years result too. Well- looky there!! Tradition!

Looking back to last year (my first as a mother), I am was am was am was intently focused, every moment of every day on what was best for my son. So much so that I can't couldn't really feel anything for myself. Last year, on mothers day, my Memere died. It wasn't unexpected. Her pain- Constant- Unrelenting.
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A friend was traveling to meet her son about a week and a half before I would be leaving to meet Teg. She had some very serious last minute crisis snags, through no fault of her own. She lived 3/4 of the way across the country at the time, we'd never met in person, and yet I was literally in panic mode trying to figure out how to either help her or comfort her. Intrinsically, I wanted to 'be there' for her. My chest gets a lump in it just remembering it now.

And yet- as my beloved Memere- The woman who literally raised me enough that my uncles are more like older brothers-  As she was dieing in misery and pain, just a few yards from my house- on Mother's day (and weeks prior) I stayed away. Intentionally. I had no driving force to go and 'be there' for her. To be by my mothers side. To be supportive. To offer comfort to anyone. 100%. One hundred percent of all my emotional and physical energies are were focused on my son.

I don't necessarily have any regrets either. But- at the same time- as focused as I was- I wonder how much of the bigger picture I couldn't see can't see. How much of my own, necessary perspective, got gets lost by the wayside along the way. Remember, it wasn't until July of last year (6 months home) before I realized my son didn't cry. Ya. (I'm already having trauma flashbacks at my ineptitude over that one).

I know. This is a heavy Debbie Downer post for a celebration day. But- I'm lost on WHAT to celebrate. Our Ethiopian family, of course, still haunts my heart. Last year- I definitely remember having 'the adoption guilt' and 'mommy guilt' and innumerable questions on how to celebrate her.   And to be honest- our story- HIS story- isn't an overly common one (that sounds so trite... unintentional). Questions of how, when and if to celebrate? Truly. Hate me. But- there is so many unknowns, that I'm often left with anger and frustration (not directed at anyone- the world maybe- a post for another day).  I still often struggle with the 'the guilt' and 'the claiming' stuff- but I am relating and learning from so many other moms with experience and confidence that progress is being made.

Perhaps, instead of writing this -draining -dump -my -heavy -heart -on -someone -else drivel I should write in his journal. It allows me to take the here and now and give it- "him in 20 years reading it perspective". It lightens my burden. I hope it doesn't add to his.

His trauma response is still going on.- Since March I think.  I can still see it happening every single morning.  Which is another reason I'm angry. At the world. And tired. And lost for what to do. Remaining 100% focused on him, when that 100% is less and less every day. Draining.

Time is what he needs.

Love.
Consistency.
Time.
All the things we can not buy regardless of the cost.